


A Stranger to Me

by Kalkasar (Mordhena)



Series: Trust [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Episode: s02e08 The Communicator, Episode: s02e09 Singularity, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27162131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Kalkasar
Summary: Archer and Malcolm negotiate their newfound relationship amidst the interference of the Trinary System radiation which puts a new twist on things.
Relationships: Jonathan Archer/Malcolm Reed
Series: Trust [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983196
Kudos: 8





	A Stranger to Me

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY!!! This story contains at least one scene of sexual aggression that may or may not border on non consensual D/s. If you don't like non-cons or D/s that doesn't faithfully subscribe to the Safe, Sane, Consensual, mindset I strongly suggest you give this one a miss. In my opinion, the scene is NOT non-cons, but perception differs from person to person. If you suspect you might be squicked, I repeat, don't read, or at least don't read part three. You've been warned, so proceed at your own risk.
> 
> * * *

_The greatest man I never knew  
_ _Lived just down the hall,  
and every day we'd say hello  
and never talk, at all.  
He was in his papers  
and I was in my room.  
How was I to know he thought  
I hung the moon?  
_Reba McIntyre. _  
  
_

* * *

 _  
_Starlight glimmered on the surface of a tranquil sea and Jonathan Archer leaned on the balcony railing, staring into the middle distance.  
The Enterprise crew had arrived on K'Sana a few days before, and Archer had readily accepted the offer of a few  
days shore leave.  
  
After the harrowing ordeal with Malcolm when the lieutenant left a communicator behind on their last away mission, the captain had  
been looking for a more relaxed atmosphere where he and Malcolm could settle into their newfound relationship.  
  
Returning to the ship after Tucker's dramatic last minute rescue, Archer decided he couldn't let Malcolm just walk out of his life again.  
He smiled, recalling Malcolm's unease when he had insisted on accompanying him after they left Decon.  
  
And then, in Malcolm's cabin, they'd kissed for the first time. It had been everything Jon hoped it would be and more. Malcolm's resistance  
crumbled. He'd given himself fully, tenderly.  
  
The captain let his eyes follow the glimmering trails of reflected starlight, across the alien sea. His mind wandered aimlessly as well and he  
flexed his shoulders trying to ease away the tension of the past few weeks.  
  
He glanced over his shoulder at a rustle of movement. Smiling, he gestured for Malcolm to join him.  
  
Reed stepped through the sliding doors of their shared room and moved to stand at his side.  
  
"Can't sleep?" Malcolm briefly touched Archer's shoulder.  
  
"My mind wouldn't stop churning," he murmured. "Did I wake you?"  
  
"No." Reed studied the view for a few moments. "Want to talk?"  
  
"I don't know." Jon pushed away from the railing and Reed was immediately tense, awkward, shifting his feet and casting Jon an apologetic glance.  
  
"I... sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I can go."  
  
"Malcolm." Archer stayed him with a hand on his arm. Malcolm had begun to unwind and relax into their new relationship, but Jon knew that it was all  
too easy to shatter that fragile confidence.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know whether talking about it would help or not. I didn't mean to push you away." He drew Malcolm into his arms.  
  
Reed leaned into him, their bodies molding to each other. Archer was silent, gathering his thoughts.  
He closed his eyes, breathing in Malcolm’s cologne. Malcolm stirred and pulled back a little, looking up into his eyes.  
  
"What's troubling you, Jonathan?"  
  
Archer loved to hear his name on Malcolm's lips. He smiled down into grey eyes. He wanted to say 'nothing.' He wanted to  
brush the problem aside and lose himself in exploring his lover, re-learning him, finding out the secret places that could  
thrill him and leave him panting, calling Jon's name in a husky undertone. Archer knew though, that Malcolm would see through the  
ruse and demand answers with single-minded determination. He led Malcolm inside, moving to a deeply padded sofa where he drew  
Reed to sit next to him.  
  
"I've been asked to write a preface for a book about my father," he said.  
  
Malcolm leaned back, resting his head against Archer's arm where it lay along the back of the sofa.  
  
"That shouldn't be difficult."  
  
"No." Archer gave a pained smile. "It shouldn't."  
  
"But?"  
  
"He was a stranger to me, Malcolm." The captain noticed the flicker of surprise in Malcolm's eyes. "You find that hard to believe,  
I suppose." Another pained smile and Jon went on. "How am I supposed to write a preface for a book about a man I... barely knew?"  
  
Malcolm sat forward with a frown. "Jon, I've heard you talk about your father on numerous occasions. There must be a hundred things you  
could write about."  
  
"There should be," Jon acknowledged. "But there aren't." He shrugged. "The fact is, after mom left, I didn't really have much to do with  
my dad. Oh sure, we lived in the same house, ate at the same table – when he was home – slept under the same roof, but...it was like  
we just said hello and goodbye each day and... that was it."  
  
Malcolm shook his head.  
  
"He had his plans, his... schematics. his work. And I had... my books."  
  
  
 **II  
**  
Malcolm Reed looked up from the book he was trying to read. He'd developed a slight headache earlier  
that day and had been attempting to relax and shake it off since the end of his shift. He frowned, thinking of Jonathan fleetingly before pushing  
the thought aside. This evening was intended to be alone time; that meant time without even thinking about the tall, graceful man with sea green  
eyes and a boyish grin that could...  
  
Malcolm shook his head and laid the book aside. He got up and put the small kettle on to boil.  
  
Thoughts of Jon again crept into his mind. It's like playing that old 'red-faced monkey' game, he thought. Trying to force himself not to think of Jon was  
just as futile as not thinking of red-faced monkeys for ten seconds. He allowed a rueful smile and let his breath out on a sigh. He may as well just admit it and let  
his mind wander where it would.  
  
And of course, his mind went straight back to K’Sana, the planet where he and Jon spent their recent shore leave. It had started out well,  
Jon was a tender lover, and poured a lot of energy into pleasing Malcolm. A small shudder ran through Reed's frame as he recalled nights  
of passion in the captain's arms. He closed his eyes, sinking into the memories this time instead of pushing them away. Warm lips  
melded to his own. Hands caressing, finding his most sensitive spots. Malcolm's lips parted and he whispered his lover's name.  
  
And then, the specter of Doctor Henry Archer blew a cold breath across their bliss.  
  
The story Jonathan told of his childhood, spent in the home of a man who barely paid him any attention was such a  
contrast to what Malcolm had always assumed was a warm and loving father-son relationship.  
  
The cold reality of Jon's childhood had shocked and saddened Reed. Henry Archer sounded very similar to Malcolm's own father.  
  
The sound of his door chimes caused Reed to start. He glanced at the chronometer beside his bed with a frown. The red numeric display read 22:30. Who would be  
paying a call at this late hour? He walked to the door and thumbed the button to open it.  
  
He was greeted by the tense face of Travis Mayweather.  
  
"Travis," Malcolm stepped aside and gestured for the ensign to enter. "What brings you here so late?"  
  
  
Travis walked into the room and turned to face him. "I was just taking a walk," the helmsman said. His brow was slightly creased, and he pressed his thumb and forefinger  
to the bridge of his nose for a moment. "I have a tension headache you wouldn't believe," he muttered.  
  
"Hm!" Reed moved to a chair and sat down. "Must be something in the air," he said. "I've had a headache all evening, as well."  
  
Mayweather shook his head. "I'm sure it's Just stress. I've been working at upgrading our navigational sensors all day." He smiled and stood up.  
"Actually, I think I'll go see if Phlox can give me something for it. I've got an early start tomorrow."  
  
Reed nodded and got up. "Yes, I probably should turn in. A good night's sleep is probably all either of us needs."  
  
After Travis left, Reed moved to the comm panel and thumbed the call button.  
  
"Reed to Archer,"  
  
The captain's response took longer than Malcolm expected and he wondered if Jon had gone to bed.  
  
"Archer, go ahead." The captain's voice came back after a few seconds.  
  
"I just called to say goodnight," Malcolm said, allowing a smile into his voice.  
  
"Oh...right..." Archer sounded vague and distracted. "G'night,"  
  
Before Malcolm could say anything else, the comm was closed. He stared at the panel for a few moments before he turned away with a frown and began to undress for bed.  
  
  
  
 **III**  
  
The next morning, Malcolm's headache was no better. He considered staying in bed. However, an echo of his father's voice telling him that only a weakling would snivel and  
lie in bed for the sake of a little headache had him roll out of his bunk reluctantly and head into the shower.  
  
The hot water on his skin was soothing, and he was able to put the headache to the back of his mind as he began pondering various encounters with alien species since the  
start of their mission. It struck him how often they'd been taken unawares and the ship had taken damage. Members of the crew had been injured in those encounters too.   
He began to think that perhaps the ship should have some kind of protocol for such eventualities. Stepping from the shower and toweling dry, he decided he would devote   
his time to the problem that morning, and make some proposals to the captain about ways to improve their response.  
  
He got dressed while reading the gamma shift reports which had been delivered to his personal console while he showered. The night had been uneventful from a tactical  
standpoint, but Hess noted two crewmen had reported sick during the night, and consequently the armory would be understaffed for alpha shift. Reed frowned as he read  
the report; it was a good thing he'd decided to persevere with work in spite of his headache.  
  


* * *

  
  
Jonathan Archer strode along the corridor, staring down at the padd in his hand.  
  
He'd been unable to focus on anything else the past two days. The preface occupied his every thought. It had robbed him of rest the previous night as he paced  
his cabin, wrestling for words to describe Henry Archer.  
  
Archer growled, tempted to fling the padd away, but he held onto it. Glaring at it as anger bubbled up within him.  
  
Abandoned. That's what he had been. Henry fed him, clothed him, and paid for his education. But he never gave Jonathan any attention beyond those things.  
 _Abandoned.  
  
_ Malcolm had abandoned him too, last night, leaving him to brood alone. Rage rippled through him and the captain broke his stride.  
  
"I'm tired of being kicked aside. I'm tired of playing second fiddle to. 'more important things'!"  
  
Turning on his heel, Jonathan Archer headed for his lover's cabin. Hopefully, Malcolm wouldn't have left for work yet.  
  


* * *

  
Malcolm was fully dressed and ready to leave when the door chime sounded. "Enter," he called distractedly, his mind already on security protocols and tactical response.  
  
The door slid open and Captain Archer stepped into the room. He carried a padd in one hand and his face was taut with something Reed couldn't decipher.  
  
"Captain," he stood straighter, shoulders back, a shade less than attention. He wasn't sure whether this visit was formal or not, and he frowned. It was unlike his  
lover to visit unannounced.  
  
Archer didn't speak immediately, he paced the room, staring at the padd and seemed unaware of Reed's presence.  
  
"Captain? Is there something I can..."  
  
"You didn't come to me last night." Archer broke in.  
  
"No," Malcolm said. "We agreed to spend last night apart, I was..."  
  
"You should have!" The captain turned to him. Something cold glimmered in his eyes. "I don't like it when you avoid me Malcolm!"  
  
"Jon?" Malcolm frowned "I... wasn't avoiding you I was unwell. You said it was fine."  
  
"What else was I _expected_ to say?"  
  
Confused, Reed stared at Archer with a frown. He didn't know what to say, or how to react to this cold anger. He had never seen Archer in such a mood before. He slipped  
his hands behind his back shifting to parade rest. Taking refuge in duty. "Sir!"  
  
Archer crossed the room in two long strides. His eyes flashed with that same cold fury and he grabbed Malcolm’s arm in a steely grasp.  
  
"I wanted you last night, and you weren't there!"  
  
"I'm sorry, I..." There was something almost predatory in Jonathan's manner and a part of Malcolm thrilled to it. He licked his lips.  
  
Suddenly, Archer kissed him, hard.  
  
"Now, Malcolm!" The captain growled, pushing Reed backwards.  
  
The impact as he was slammed against a bulkhead caused a jolt of lust that bolted straight to his cock. Malcolm groaned, giving in to the onslaught of Jon's  
hard, demanding mouth. God help him. He wanted this!  
  
Jon's hands were busy unzipping his uniform and pushing it off his shoulders so that the sleeves pinned Malclolm's arms at his sides. He groaned as  
Archer's tongue invaded his mouth, hot and wet, thrusting deep.  
  
His arms were released as Archer pulled the uniform off and then removed Malcolm's undershirt. Fingers grazed his skin and Malcolm gasped in mingled pleasure  
and pain when Archer pinched his nipples.  
  
His senses reeled with a heady mixture of pleasure, seasoned with danger as he was swung around. Pushed to the wall, his hands pinned above his head in a steely grasp while  
Jon ran his free hand down Malcolm's back and under the waist band of his under shorts. Malcolm groaned, listening to his lover's harsh, rapid breathing next to his ear.  
  
The hand was removed and he heard suckling sounds for a moment before the hand returned and a saliva moistened finger slid into his anus.  
  
Malcolm cried out, his knees buckling as Jon's finger fucked him.  
  
Jonathan released his hands, and reached for Malcolm's cock, stroking him while his finger continued to work in and out of his body.  
  
"Come, Malcolm!" he rasped, probing deeper with his finger until he hit the small gland inside, causing another sharp jolt of pleasure.  
  
Lost in a world of sensation, trembling from head to foot, Malcolm let out a shuddering moan, thrilling at the commanding tone in his lover's voice. He was close, so close.  
  
Archer squeezed Malcolm's cock. "Come...now!"  
  
Reed whimpered and arched his back as he climaxed, his seed coating Archer's hand. He felt teeth sink into his shoulder. The added pain mixed with the pleasure made  
his head spin. He collapsed against the wall and then slowly sank to his knees.  
  
Jon was behind him kneeling on the floor with him, his voice rough with passion as he spoke close to Reed's ear.  
  
"Never do that again, Malcolm. You're mine... you come to me every night; do you hear me?"  
  
Mutely, he nodded, too shattered to speak.  
  
Abruptly, Jon released him and pulled away. Before Malcolm could gather his thoughts, Archer had gone.  
  
His shoulder began to smart as his mind slowly cleared. Malcolm reached to touch the spot, surprised to find the skin broken, and a trace of blood on his fingers when he  
drew them away. He knelt on the floor for a long time, staring at the crimson smear.  
  


* * *

  
Walking along the corridor after leaving Reed's quarters, the captain smiled. Malcolm had offered so little resistance. Had bent to Archer's will easily. It filled the captain  
with a feeling of power. Power...His heart pounded and blood sang in his ears. He'd been in control, and he liked it.  
  
His breathing was harsh and fast as though he'd been running, but a secret part of him thrilled to the knowledge of what had really caused it. He  
licked his lips and glanced back the way he'd come, half tempted to go back, but the padd he carried claimed his attention.  
  
Malcolm could wait. Archer had more important things to consider.

  
  
**IV**

**  
**  
Malcolm walked along a corridor towards the lift. Archer had summoned him to his ready room. He had little doubt that the call had something to do with the recent events  
when _Enterprise_ discovered a trinary system and decided to take a closer look.  
  
Unknown to the crew at the time, the black hole associated with the system emitted a deadly form of radiation.  
  
Malcolm reflected that had it not been for Sub-Commander T'Pol's seeming immunity to the radiation, the entire crew, in fact, the ship would no longer exist.  
  
He'd succumbed to the same obsessive behavior as the rest, and it culminated in a fight on the bridge. Reed felt his face heat with shame just thinking of it.  
  
Granted, he and Commander Tucker were under the influence of radiation at the time, but that was no excuse for his behavior. Not only had he lectured both the  
captain and Tucker on their response times in front of other crewmembers. He'd actually been ready to _strike_ a superior officer.  
  
Jon intervened, pushing Tucker away from Malcolm, and then shoving Reed against a bulkhead and warning him that he may have him taken out and shot if he heard  
the alarm one more time.   
  
Malcolm closed his eyes, shaking his head. It was all over the ship, how the tactical systems came online when the captain was attempting to pilot  
the ship out of the radiation field.  
  
Malcolm fully expected a dressing down for the fight, and no doubt, the captain would call him to task for not deactivating the tactical alert.  
  
By the time he reached the ready room, Malcolm had almost convinced himself that he would be called before a court martial.  
  
Pausing outside the captain's door, Reed straightened his uniform and took a moment to steel himself for what he fully expected would be an unpleasant encounter. He  
pressed the door chime and stepped inside the ready room when Archer called him to enter.  
  
"You asked to see me, sir?"  
  


* * *

  
Less than ten minutes later, Malcolm Reed stepped out of the captain's ready room. He walked a little taller, and his relief now that the meeting had ended was evident.  
He allowed a smile to fleet across his lips as Travis Mayweather turned to look at him from the helm station.  
  
Far from a dressing down, the captain had congratulated him on his tactical alert, telling him that the weapons had come online right when they were needed.  
  
Reed returned to the armory with a much lighter step than when he'd left.  
  
He set to work on the alarm. Perhaps he could come up with something less obtrusive.  
  
Malcolm was soon so absorbed in work that he started when someone cleared their throat behind him.  
  
"Malcolm, c'n I have a word?"  
  
"Commander!" Reed turned to face Tucker. "Of course. Is there something I can…?"  
  
"Malcolm, I came t'apologize," Tucker cut him off. "For what I said to ya the other day on the bridge. I..."  
  
"Sir?" Malcolm frowned and then met the commander's eyes as memory returned.  
  
After the captain left the bridge, ordering T'Pol not to disturb him except for a _real_ emergency, Tucker confronted him.  
  
"Y'think he cares about you?" Tucker sneered. "I know him, L'tenant, better than anyone else on this ship. He'll fuck and leave ya, just as   
quick and easy as he has everyone before ya."  
  
"We were all under duress, Commander," Malcolm said. "I don't think there's any need for you to..."  
  
"Well, I think there is. Malcolm. Don't make this any harder than it already is." Tucker sighed. "I was way outta line. I've got no business tellin' y’somethin' like that."  
  
Malcolm looked away with a frown. "Is it true?" he asked, unsure why it should even matter. "He's...had a lot of lovers?"  
  
Tucker shrugged. "Not really, no more'n the average." He met Reed's eyes with a pained expression. "Look it was just somethin' I said t'try and rattle ya. It didn't mean  
anythin'." He swallowed and half turned away. "I'd... appreciate it, if ya didn't mention it to J... to the Cap'n."  
  
Malcolm studied him. He drew a sharp breath as realization dawned. "Lord, Trip. I had no idea. I..."  
  
Tucker waved a dismissive hand. "Don't let it worry ya." He forced a grin and took a step towards the doors. "I'll be goin'," he said. "I just thought I should apologize, an'  
I did it." Turning on his heel, the commander beat a hasty retreat leaving Malcolm staring after him.  
  
With a frown and a shake of his head, Malcolm turned back to his work. Suddenly, a lot of things made sense.  
  
Tucker's obsession with making the captain 'the perfect chair,' during the trinary system radiation was one thing, but, thinking back, Malcolm began to recall other small  
things which he'd overlooked before. He had dismissed them as signs of the deep friendship between Tucker and the captain. Now they took on a far deeper significance.  
Malcolm winced at how dismissive he'd been of the commander's feelings.  
  
One part of his mind dwelled on Tucker as he worked the rest of the afternoon, and by the time his shift ended, he had determined that Jon would never find out about  
the situation from him. Tucker had entrusted him with a confidence, and he wasn't about to violate that trust.  
  
As he made his way to his cabin to shower and change, Malcolm pondered what this would mean for his friendship with Trip. Things would change, no doubt,  
and that thought caused a deep frown. He had come to view Tucker as a close friend. It was a friendship he valued and didn't wish to lose, but his involvement with Jonathan  
must be painful for Trip. The worst part was that he couldn't even talk it over with Jonathan and get his insight.  
  
Perhaps he should just stay in tonight and give the situation some thought. Malcolm let himself into his cabin and headed into his bathroom.  
  
 _Never do that again, Malcolm. You're mine_. The captain's voice, breathless and rasping echoed in his mind. _You come to me every night. Do you hear me?_  
  
A frisson passed through Malcolm at that memory. He stripped out of his uniform and turned on the hot water stream before  
getting into the shower.  
  
That was just some sexual game. I don't think it was really serious. He needed time to think and work some things out. Malcolm was sure Jon would  
understand.

  
  
  
**V**

**  
**  
"I gave you a command!" Jonathan Archer faced his lover across the confines of Malcolm's cabin, his green eyes flashing with fury.  
  
"A command?" Malcolm frowned and shook his head. "But at the time we were in a situation that I presumed..."  
  
"Presumption is a foolish action, Malcolm."  
  
"I didn't think we were in rank, or that it was an order in your capacity as captain, Jonathan!" Malcolm stood his ground. "After all, if you think about what we were doing at the time..."  
  
"Rank's got nothing to do with this!" Archer took a step closer. Face to face as he lowered his voice to a dangerously low growl. "I told you in as clear words as I can use, that I  
want you to come to me every night. _You_ understood my meaning perfectly! Yet you chose to ignore it!"  
  
Reed backed off a pace. He blinked and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize it meant so much to you. I thought... I thought it was just a game." He lowered his eyes  
from the cold anger in Archer's gaze.  
  
Silence fell between them for several breaths. Malcolm shifted his weight from one foot to the other, waiting for Jon to speak. He'd managed to screw up already, after...  
how long had they been together, two months? Three? He let out a breath. No doubt this relationship, like every other, was destined to founder on the rocks  
of miscommunication. He closed his eyes. Any moment now, the death knell would sound. He gulped and squared his shoulders. He would take it on the chin, just as he  
always did.  
  
Silence.  
  
Such _loud_ silence. Malcolm looked up hesitantly and found Jonathan's eyes, drained of anger now, fixed on him with an expression he couldn't quite decipher.  
  
Archer closed the distance between them and Malcolm's senses jumped at the sudden motion. He found himself face to face with his lover again, but this time the tension  
that sang between them was very different. He opened his mouth to speak, but his words were smothered in a searing kiss as his lover pulled him close  
and assaulted his mouth with demanding lips, his tongue probing, tasting.  
  
Malcolm shuddered and leaned into Jon's muscular body. Maybe it would be all right.  
  
The moment he relaxed into the kiss Jonathan pulled away.  
  
"You thought wrong," He growled. "This is no game, Malcolm." The anger was back but mixed with the passion of a moment before it was no longer frightening.  
Malcolm felt a thrill of excitement run through him.  
  
"No, sir," he answered. "It's not a game, sir." He prayed he had read his lover right.  
  
Keeping his gaze lowered, Malcolm started when fingers came to rest on the back of his neck. It was a light touch, but it was also possessive. He shuddered as Archer  
leaned close to his ear to breathe, barely audible.  
  
"Mine."  
  
"Yes, sir." His eyes slipped closed and he inwardly cursed the ease with which he bent to this new dynamic. He'd been here before. It felt like coming home.  
  
The lightest pressure on the back of his neck sent Malcolm to his knees. He shivered as his lover moved to stand in front of him. He raised his eyes and met Jonathan's gaze.  
The predatory gleam he'd seen there a few days before had returned. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and Archer chuckled.  
  
"Do you know how much it turns me on to see you on your knees in front of me?" Archer's voice caressed him like silk.  
  
"Yes, sir." Reed struggled to keep the smile from his lips, but it defied him. He looked away. "I think I do, sir."  
  
"Look at me! I didn't say you could look away!"  
  
"Yessir," he looked up.  
  
"Hands behind your back," Archer purred. He smiled at the instant compliance. "Good."  
  
Malcolm shuddered, his heart had gone into overdrive and his breath came quickly between parted lips. He was very aware of his surroundings. Crystal clarity made  
everything vivid. The coldness of deck plating through his clothing, the floor under his knees, the sound of his own harsh breathing, the vibration of his heart against  
his ribs. His own arousal, impossible to ignore or deny. When Archer's hand came to rest against his cheek, he surrendered.  
  
"Please, sir," he whispered, turning his cheek into that touch.  
  
"What, Malcolm. What do you want?"  
  
"I... Everything," he said, "I want... everything." He didn't know how to say what was in his heart. Only knew the craving was there. He wanted to belong. He wanted  
to give, to be taken, to surrender.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes. Yes, I'm sure, sir. I want this."  
  
"Malcolm. Stand up." Archer accompanied the command with gentle pressure under his chin and Reed scrambled to his feet, looking into the eyes of his lover, his  
Captain. He drew a deep shuddering breath and swayed on his feet.  
  
"I'm going to leave," Archer said. He held up a hand to stop the instant protest that rose to Reed’s lips. "I'm going to leave, Malcolm. I want you to take the next  
three hours to think about what you're offering. What I'm asking. At the end of those three hours, if you still want this. Come to my cabin and we'll talk. If you decide  
you don't want this... comm me and I'll come here. Understood?"  
  
"Yes, sir..." Malcolm studied his lover, wondering.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"If I decide... if I should decide I don't... will that mean that it's over?"  
  
"That's up to you, too." Jonathan said. He touched Malcolm's cheek and then he turned and left.  
  
  
 **VI**

 **  
**  
The time dragged. Archer glanced at the chronometer for at least the tenth time in as many minutes. Two hours 49 minutes ago, he'd walked out of Malcolm's cabin.  
He'd forced himself to walk away when everything in him had wanted to accept Reed's complete surrender then and there. The darkness that welled within him during  
the singularity had returned, had wanted to take over, had wanted to possess Malcolm completely.  
  
The rational side of his nature prevailed. He knew he needed to give Malcolm the opportunity to think clearly, to make this decision with an unclouded mind.  
  
He sighed and bounced the water polo ball off the bulkhead. Two hours fifty-three minutes, ten seconds.  
  
He told himself he wouldn't go to Malcolm unless his lover commed him. The future of their relationship lay in Reed's hands. He had to let Malcolm make this decision  
alone because his need for control frightened him. Jon had felt this way in the past, but never to this extent.  
  
He bounced the ball against the wall again. He'd tried reasoning that it was just the singularity that had caused that darkness in him to come to the fore, but it couldn't  
just come from no-where. It had to have been a part of him before then. Archer dropped the ball onto his bed and stood up, pacing the cabin.  
  
Thinking back, he could recall times when he'd played control games. That's what they had been, then. Games. Something to heighten the sexual rush.  
But with Malcolm it was different. He wanted to own Malcolm. Archer shook his head. That sounded so wrong. It wasn't possible to _own_ another human being. Was it?  
  
"Not without his consent," Archer muttered. He glanced at the clock. Two hours 58 minutes. He looked away. He leaned his forehead against the  
bulkhead above his view port and closed his eyes. He won't come. It's over. He won't come, and he won't call, and you'll be abandoned again. He sighed and shifted his weight.  
You pushed him too hard, scared him off. He'll decide he doesn't...  
  
Archer's thoughts were cut short by the door chime. He turned his head, staring at the door with mingled hope and fear. What if it wasn't Malcolm? What if someone else had  
decided they had to see him right at that moment? Archer turned to face the door and squared his shoulders.  
  
"Enter."  
  
As the door slid open, Archer let out a breath of relief. He held out his hand, palm upwards to the man who stood just inside the doorway.  
  
"Come here," he commanded. "Come to me."  
  
Trembling fingers slid across the captain's and tension crackled between them. Archer lifted a hand to Malcolm’s neck in a caress and watched in wonder as Malcolm  
went to his knees.  
  
He smiled down at his surrendered lover and their eyes met.  
  
"Not abandoned," Archer whispered on a breath, barely audible in the darkness of his cabin.  
  
"No, sir." Malcolm replied. "Not anymore."  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, please leave kudos or a comment to let the author know.


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